I sent the Nurse at nine o'clock. Maybe she
can’t find him. That can’t be. Oh, she’s
slow! Love’s messengers should be thoughts, which fly ten
times faster than sunbeams. They should be strong enough to push
shadows over the dark hills. That’s the way doves carry
Venus so fast, and that’s why Cupid has wings that let him
fly as fast as the wind. Now it’s noon. That’s
three hours since nine o'clock, but she hasn’t
come back. If she was young and passionate, she’d move as
fast as a ball. My words would bounce her to my sweet love, and his
words would bounce her back to me. But a lot of old people act like
they’re already dead—sluggish, slow, fat, and
colorless, like lead.

Enter NURSE and
PETER

The NURSE and PETER
enter.

O God, she comes.—O honey Nurse, what news?

Hast thou met with him? Send thy man away.

Oh my God, here she comes! Oh sweet Nurse, what news do you bring?
Have you spoken to him? Send your man away.

20

NURSE

Peter, stay at the gate.

NURSE

Peter, wait for me at the gate.

Exit PETER

PETER exits.

JULIET

Now, good sweet Nurse— O Lord, why look’st
thou sad?

Though news be sad, yet tell them merrily.

If good, thou shamest the music of sweet news

By playing it to me with so sour a face.

JULIET

Now, good sweet Nurse—Oh Lord, why do you look so sad?
Even if the news is sad, tell me with a smile on your face. If the
news is good, you’re ruining the sweet news by playing a
trick with a sour face like that.